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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011009">The Brightest Shade of Sun</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablyfakenews/pseuds/probablyfakenews'>probablyfakenews</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>In which sokka stows away on Hakoda’s ship looking for glory and finds a boyfriend instead, Injury, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Water Tribe Zuko (Avatar), kind of</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:54:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablyfakenews/pseuds/probablyfakenews</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sokka and Zuko both disobey their fathers, end up on Hakoda’s ship, and fall in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hakoda &amp; Sokka (Avatar), Hakoda &amp; Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>305</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Brightest Shade of Sun</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>War paint feels strange on Sokka’s face. It’s thick and uncomfortable like a second layer of skin. The paint cracks as he furrows his brow, hardens his jaw.</p>
<p>“I’m coming with you,” he says. The thought of staying behind with the women and children never once crosses his mind. He is a warrior, through and through. With wolf blood in his veins and the light of Tui Herself to guide him.</p>

<p></p><div>
  <p>But if his arms tremble when he lifts his club, that’s no one’s business but his own. It’s not his fault those things are built for someone bigger than him!</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad’s face softens. “You’re not old enough to go to war, Sokka,” he says. “You know that.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I’m strong. I’m brave. I can fight!“ Sokka insists. “Please, Dad!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad grips his shoulder, his face grim. “Being a man is knowing where you’re needed the most,” he says. “And for you right now, that’s here, protecting your sister.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Katara doesn’t need protecting. If anything, Sokka needs protection from <em>her</em>. She froze him in a block of ice just yesterday!</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I don’t understand,” Sokka says, because he doesn’t. He curses the tears that well up in his eyes and leave tracks down his war paint. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Someday you will.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>Bullshit</em>, Sokka thinks. Plans are already spinning in his mind as Dad pulls him into a hug.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>There is a small corner in the back of the cargo bay, too small for an adult man to even notice, let alone crawl in to. It quickly becomes Sokka’s new home. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>For what he assumes is weeks, no one notices the small dent in their jerky supply. No one hears the sounds of his pacing, late at night when most of the crew is asleep. No one pays attention to the nicks in the wooden wall, left there by Sokka’s boomerang in a fit of boredom.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He wonders how long it took Katara to realize he was missing.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka stays hidden long after the icy chill leaves the air. He tries to convince himself that he’s being strategic, that he has to wait until he’s far enough north that the fleet can’t risk turning around to take him back to the South Pole. Really, he’s just afraid of what Dad will say. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He becomes familiar with the sound of waves crashing against the hull, of footsteps on the deck above him. Nothing ever changes. Sokka curls up in the dark, knees pressed to his chest, itching for something to do. So when an explosion sounds from above deck and shakes him to his core, he is already on his feet and running.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The deck is in chaos. Water Tribe men charge forward in an organized rush, and Sokka joins in the fray. He can hear Dad shouting commands in the distance, and Sokka ducks his head even as his heart swells up with pride. If he proves himself here and now, maybe Dad will finally recognize him as a true warrior of the tribe. But first, he has to manage not to get <em>caught</em>. Dad would definitely bench him if he found out. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad’s crew is boarding a Fire Nation ship. The rest of the Water Tribe fleet hangs back, because even Sokka can see that they don’t need more than one ship to handle this enemy vessel. It’s small and clearly outdated. Rust has long since settled into the metal plating. Also, there’s a gaping hole in the hull. Sokka smirks. The jerks probably fell for one of Dad’s explosive traps. Amateurs.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka takes a running leap and clears the small gap between the two ships. He stumbles the landing but manages to tangle his hands in the rigging to avoiding failing flat on his face. Success!</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He drops down from the rigging onto the metal floor of the deck. The battle rages around him, and Sokka tries to convince himself that he likes the way his heart pounds in his chest, how his hands shake in anticipation. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He’s a warrior, after all. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka feels the heat of the blast long before he notices the firebender. He scrambles back, but the explosion still knocks him off his feet. Pain cuts through his arm as his body slams against the steel wall of the cabin. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka pushes himself up onto his elbows.He looks down and finds blood seeping through a gash in his sleeve. Steam wafts from the singed fabric of his anorak. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Footsteps approach him. Sokka looks up to see the firebender standing over him. A twisted smirk paints the man’s face in a cruel light as fire flares in his palm. Sokka throws his hand up in a vain attempt to block the blast.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>But the attack never comes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A spear tip juts through the man’s throat, the only bit of skin not protected by armor. Hot blood splatters against Sokka’s face as the enemy soldier coughs and collapses on top of him. Sokka panics under the sudden weight. He pushes weakly at the body, but its so much bigger than him and it won’t budge and he can’t <em>breathe</em>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Sokka?” </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Strong hands grip the firebender’s body and shove it off of his lap. Sokka looks up into Bato’s confused gaze. Blood drips from the spear he holds by his side. Sokka still can’t get any air into lungs. Something warm and metallic has settled on his tongue.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Sokka!” Bato shakes him by the shoulders, snapping him back to focus. “What are you doing here?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I—“ The words catch in Sokka’s throat.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Fire blasts over their heads. Bato turns and throws his boomerang in one fluid motion, cutting off the stream of flame as a scream sounds in the distance. “Nevermind!” he shouts. “Just get out of here!” </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka shakes his head mutely. He’s strong. He’s brave. He can fight. But the familiar mantra isn’t strong enough to overpower the wobble in his legs, the tremble in his hands. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Go!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bato hauls him to his feet and shoves him through an open doorway, away from the main deck. Sokka clutches the wound in his arm and stumbles down the corridor. His sleeve is stained with red, and his vision is starting to blur at the edges. Whether its from blood loss or panic, he’s not sure. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Either way, Dad is gonna be <em>pissed</em>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He only stops when he sees a door marked Infirmary. It feels wrong to hide while the rest of the men are fighting, but he isn’t too prideful to ignore the fact that he’s just in the way. Tui and La, he didn’t manage to take out a single man before freaking out like a baby! So much for being strong.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka barges into the infirmary and bolts the door shut behind him. He takes a moment to press his forehead against the cool metal and catch his breath before shedding his heavy blue coat. The wound on his arm is smaller than he expected for the amount of blood that streams from it. It will definitely need stitches, but Sokka has never sewn his own pants, let alone his skin! Probably best to save that for the ship’s healer. He finds a roll of bandages in a cabinet and settles for wrapping the wound as tightly as possible. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It’s only when Sokka hears a whimper that he realizes he’s not alone. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>There’s a boy lying in one of the cots. He’s small, so small that his blankets would have swallowed him whole had he not thrown them to the floor. His dark hair has recently been shaved and has since grown back as peach fuzz. Bandages cover nearly half the boy’s head, from his hairline to his cheek. Sweat glistens on his porcelain skin, and he thrashes in his sleep as if in the clutches of a nightmare. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Another whine rips from the boy’s throat. Sokka’s heart lurches in sympathy. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Hey, pal,” he says. He approaches the boy slowly. “You alright? Cause from where I’m standing, you don’t look so good.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“W-what?” His voice is raspy and pained. The long, dark lashes on the boy’s uncovered eye flutter, but ultimately remain closed. “Who’s there?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Relax. I’m one of the good guys. I’m not gonna hurt ya.” Sokka reassures him. “What’s a kid like you doing on a Fire Nation ship?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“M’ not a kid.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Well, how old are you then?” Sokka asks. “I’m twelve!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Thirteen,” the boy replies, smug. “A teenager. Not a kid.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Dude. There’s no way you’re older than me. You’re <em>tiny</em>. Practically an infant.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The boy lifts a weak hand to flip him off. Sokka grins. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He’s never met another boy his age. Spirits, he’s never met anyone his age other than his sister. Yet he can already envision himself becoming friends with this kid. Something about him feels familiar. Right. Like a part of himself that he hadn’t realized was empty had been filled. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The boy’s lips quirk up in a smile for just a second. Sokka would have missed it if he blinked. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“What’s your name?” Sokka asks. He sits on the edge of the cot. “I’m Sokka, son of Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The boy flinches. “Water Tribe, huh?” he replies weakly. “My name is, uh, Lee. Of the F—Earth Kingdom.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Nice to meet you, Lee. Don’t worry. My tribe is wiping out all those Fire Nation creeps while we speak. You don’t need to be scared of them anymore.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lee clams up after that, no matter how much Sokka tries to get him to speak. Poor guy must be scared to death of the Fire Nation. Tui knows what the ashmakers must have done to give him a wound that large. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka continues to chat long after Lee falls into a fitful sleep. He lets his own voice drown out the screams and explosions that he can hear just outside the infirmary. His hand wraps around Lee’s before he even realizes what he’s doing. But once he notices, he can’t seem to bring himself to let go.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Sokka!” There is a pounding on the door. Dad sounds furious, but there’s an undercurrent of fear that Sokka hasn’t heard in his voice since the day Mom died. “Are you in there?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka swallows, but the lump in his throat persists. He hops down from the cot and undoes the latch.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The door flies open. Dad storms in with an intensity that drives Sokka back. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Of all the stupid, irresponsible, insane stunts you’ve ever pulled, this one takes the cake!” Dad fumes. He gestures wildly with his hands as he talks. “What were you thinking?“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka backs up until his spine presses against the wall.“I don’t know—“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Exactly! You weren’t thinking, and that’s the problem! How could such a smart boy do something so stupid!” Dad shouts. “Tui and La, what are we going to with you?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka flinches. All he wanted was to prove himself, and now he’s become a liability. Why can’t he do anything right?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad must pick up on his distress (or maybe he finally notices the dried blood splattered across Sokka’s face), because his expression softens. He reaches out, probably to rest his hand on Sokka’s shoulder, but a small, pale arm knocks him away. Lee forces himself in front of Sokka, swaying on his feet as he struggles to stand. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“<em>Don’t touch him</em>,” Lee growls, forming a barrier between Sokka and his dad. “I won’t let you.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Lee!” Sokka grabs Lee’s arm. His skin is steaming, so hot that Sokka almost wants to let go. “It’s okay, man. It’s just my dad.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Somehow, Lee grows even more tense.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad holds his hands up, placating. His eyes flick to Sokka and then back to Lee, and his eyebrows shoot up, clearly asking for an explanation. Sokka shrugs. He has no idea what the other boy’s problem is. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lee’s voice is low and dangerous when he next speaks. “Get away from him,” he says. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad takes a step back, giving him space. “I’m not here to hurt you, son.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Lee?” Sokka asks</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lee looks back at him. His uncovered eye is wide and terrified. Minute shivers wrack his small frame.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“It’s okay,” Sokka repeats.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The words have barely left his mouth before Lee’s eye rolls up in his head. His knees give out, and Sokka rushes forward to catch him under his arms to keep him from hitting the floor. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>With the other boy pressed this close to him, Sokka feels the heat of his fiery, sweat-slicked skin. He smells something sickly sweet that makes him want to gag. Lee really doesn’t look so good. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Poor kid has a fever,” Dad says as he scoops the unconscious boy into his arms. He places Lee gently back on his cot. Lee’s head lolls to the side, and Sokka can see that blood has started to seep through the bandages over his eye. “And what seems like a nasty infection. What happened to him?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I’m not sure,” Sokka says. “He says his name is Lee, and that he’s from the Earth Kingdom. That’s all I managed to get from him before he fell asleep.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“We’ll take him with us and get Kustaa to take a look at him. This ship isn’t worth enough to even bother trying to keep it. Grab anything that looks useful and load it onto our ship.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Got it.” Sokka nods. He immediately begins combing through the medical supplies, throwing anything remotely practical or interesting into a large crate. His hands linger on a rolled up scroll, stamped with a fancy, broken wax seal. He shrugs and throws it in the crate. It might make good reading material the next time he gets bored.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It’s not until nearly an hour later, when Lee has been moved to the infirmary on Dad’s ship, that Sokka realizes that when Lee had turned to look back at him, his terrified eyes had been gold.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>As Kustaa, their ship’s healer, unwraps the bandages from Lee’s face, Sokka has to leave the room.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He’s not proud of it, but when he catches sight of the raw, burnt patch of skin that spans from Lee’s hairline to cheek, he immediately feels sick to his stomach. He steps out in to the hall and takes a moment to pull himself back together before reentering the infirmary.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lee has finally woken up, but he doesn’t seem to be completely lucid. He makes fragile, keening sounds as Kustaa attempts to clean his wound. Even without a shred of medical knowledge, Sokka can tell that its bad. The wound is angry and oozing and <em>Tui and La</em>, Sokka wants to throw up just looking at it. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad paces the room. Anger radiates off of him like a physical force. “I’m going to kill every last one of those ashmakers,” he promises. “What kind of monster burns a child?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Will he be okay?” Sokka asks. He grabs Lee’s hand again, rubbing comforting circles against the boy’s wrist. Dad gives him a questioning look, but says nothing.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Honestly?” Kustaa says. He stokes a gentle hand across Lee’s forehead. “If he survives the night, it will be nothing short of a miracle.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The room is struck into silence, save for Lee’s haggard breathing and soft, delirious mumbling.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dread creeps into Sokka’s heart and settles deep within his bones. He barely knows this boy, so why does he feel so sad?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Who is he?” Kustaa asks.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Apparently, he’s from the Earth Kingdom,” Dad replies. “That’s all we know.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“But his eyes—“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Are gold. Yes, I noticed.” Dad pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing in deep. “If I had to wager a guess, I’d say he’s a war child. Probably the bastard of some high-ranking official. They wanted him gone to save themselves from the embarrassment.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“But that’s—“ Sokka pressed his clenched fists against his thighs. “That’s awful! It’s not his fault he was born!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You’re right. But it doesn’t change the fact that the Fire Nation is more obsessed with their skewed ideal of honor than their morality.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“At least they got what was coming to them,” Sokka says. A wolfish grin tugs at his lips, but there’s no joy in it. He wonders which of the soldiers was Lee’s shitty father. Could it have been the one who collapsed onto Sokka like a puppet cut from its strings? The one Bato nailed with his boomerang? It is impossible to tell without asking Lee himself. Regardless, Sokka hopes that the man suffered.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I need to speak with you,” Dad says. “But it can wait for tomorrow. You want to stay with him, don’t you?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka nods. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Watch him. Wake Kustaa if anything happens. But come morning, for better or worse, we’re going to talk about why you thought it was a good idea to stow away on my ship.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“That’s fair.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad looks like he wants to say more, but he instead glances between the three of them, looks up to the heavens as if he’s begging Tui for strength, and leaves the room. Sokka releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You’ve really fucked up this time,” Kustaa says. He guides Sokka to sit on an empty cot. “I can’t fix the mess you’ve made, but I can treat that wound of yours. Let me take a look at it.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Kustaa talks to him as he stitches and redresses the wound, but Sokka’s mind is elsewhere. His eyes keep drifting to Lee’s sleeping form. Sweat still pools on the boy’s brow, but now his body is wracked with violent shivers despite his generous pile of blankets.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka has a chance of making a friend for the first time in his life, but instead he’s going to have to watch Lee die.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It’s not <em>fair</em>.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Kustaa pats the top of his head, bringing him back to the present. “Are you with me now, brat?” the healer asks, exasperated. He must have been trying to get his attention for a while.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Yeah,” Sokka says. He swallows the lump in his throat, but his eyes still burn with the threat of tears. “What were you saying?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“There’s clean clothes in the chest by the door. They’ll probably swallow you whole, but it’s better than what you’ve got,” Kustaa says. “Also, there’s a wash pail to take care of the whole blood situation.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Yeah, yeah,” Sokka says, distracted. “Okay.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I’m serious. You don’t want that boy to wake up to your blood covered face, do you? I can’t imagine that’s good for the healing process.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Of course not.” Sokka shakes his head. “I’ll get cleaned up right away. Thank you, Kustaa.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Let me know if his condition changes.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>After the door shuts behind Kustaa, Sokka peels his sweaty, blood-stained clothes off of his body and lets them fall to the floor.  After spending who knows how long confined to the cargo bay, his clothes <em>reek</em>. The new clothes are large enough to hold two of him, but they are clean and warm, so he rolls up his pant legs and sleeves without complaint. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>By the time he finishes washing his face, the water is stained a muddy pink. He must have given Dad a heart attack walking around with that much blood on his face. No wonder the man seemed so stressed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Now clean, Sokka approaches Lee’s cot. Lee shivers. Sokka pulls the blankets up to the boy’s chin, but it doesn’t seem to help.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Fuck it,” Sokka mutters and climbs into the cot with him. He presses his chest against Lee’s back and wraps an arm snugly around his shoulders. Lee’s skin is clammy and his damp shirt clings uncomfortably to Sokka’s skin. But when the shivers fade away and Lee relaxes into the embrace, Sokka knows he made the right decision. Lee drifts off into the most peaceful sleep Sokka has seen him in so far. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He doesn’t know why he cares so much. But he does know that he wants this boy to live more than he’s ever wanted anything. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He presses his hand against Lee’s chest, feeling for his heartbeat. It’s feeble and erratic, but still there. Sokka has never been spiritual, but he finds himself praying to Tui, to La, to anyone that will listen. By the time he gets to the Great Spirits of the Earth Kingdom, his eyes have grown heavy, and sleep drags him under into its warm embrace.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka wakes to a face inches from his own. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lee has rolled over at some point in his sleep. He now faces Sokka, with his hands clutching weakly at the fabric of Sokka’s shirt. His sleeping face is scrunched in pain and confusion.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“‘Zula always lies,” Lee mumbles.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Lee?” Sokka asks. “What are you talking about?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> “Father wouldn’t do that to me.” Lee’s voice is choked, cutting out on the last syllable. “<em>She always lies.</em>”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka sits up in alarm. “Are you alright there, buddy?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“She... she always...”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Lee scrubs at his face, as if trying to wipe away tears. The heel of his palm brushes against his bandaged eye, and suddenly Lee is screaming.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The next few seconds are a blur in Sokka’s memory. He’s vaguely aware of grabbing Lee’s wrists, preventing the boy from clawing at his own face. He remembers Kustaa forcing a clear liquid past Lee’s lips and catching him as he falls limp. The screaming cuts off abruptly, and Sokka can finally breathe again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Go take a walk,” Kustaa tells Sokka. “Thank you for watching him, but I’ve got it from here. It’s time for you to go see your father, anyway.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Will he be okay?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“He survived the night. That’s more than we thought he’d last. I would say the odds of him making it through this are slim, but he seems like he’s determined to beat the odds. Have faith, Sokka.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka allows himself to be ushered out of the room. He spots the scroll he had found on the Fire Nation ship sitting on a cupboard by the door, and he grabs it on the way out. Maybe the scroll will help him fill in the missing gaps about Lee.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad isn’t in his room. Sokka breathes a sigh of relief.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He supposes that he could go try to find the man, but decides instead to just sit on the floor and wait for him. He unfurls the scroll and begins to read.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>By decree of Firelord Ozai, </em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Zuko, the former heir to the throne, has been stripped of his titles and banished from the Fire Nation. He can only return with the Avatar in chains. Zuko has disrespected the Firelord and now bears the mark of the dishonored. Anyone caught giving him aid will be marked likewise.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The royal decree continues on for several more paragraphs, detailing the legal ramifications of banishment. However, Sokka is distracted by another piece of parchment that had been rolled up with the first. </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Dearest brother,</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>You never learn, do you? Perhaps Father’s lesson will finally stick this time. I heard scars were in style this season. </em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>The Fire Nation is no place for cowards. Hopefully  some sightseeing will give you the perspective you so clearly lack. Just try not to let the Earth Kingdom peasants or the Water Tribe savages get their grimy hands on you. They won’t be as merciful as Father.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em> I heard Uncle was planning to accompany you, but I put a stop to that. After all, how will you get anything done with a soft old man like him breathing down your neck? Don’t worry. I’ll keep your crown warm for you until you find the Avatar.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Yours in superiority,</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>Princess Azula, second of her name, favored daughter of Firelord Ozai, heir to the throne</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka crumples the letter in his fists. He can’t believe it. Lee is Fire Nation. Lee is the spirits-damned son of the Firelord!</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Footsteps sound down the hall. Panicked, Sokka stuffs the scrolls down his shirt. A moment later, his father walks through the door.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad doesn’t say anything at first. He crosses the room and settles at his desk. Sokka watches him, his shoulders unbearably tense.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Finally, Dad breaks the silence. “How’s Lee?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“F-fine!” Sokka blurts. “Absolutely normal.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“He survived the night. That’s more than I dared to wish for.” Dad dips his quill into the bottle of ink on his desk and begins to write on a spare piece of parchment. “We might make a fine crewman out of him yet. I know a fighter when I see one.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Maybe!” Despite the early morning chill, sweat has started to soak through Sokka’s collar. “Or maybe, we should drop him off at the nearest port and pretend we never saw him.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad turns to look at him with a raised brow. “And why in Tui’s name would we do that?“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Um.” This is the moment of truth. Sokka should tell his father who Lee really is. But when he tries to respond, his traitorous mouth betrays him. “No reason.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Dad’s eyes narrow. <em>Shit</em>, Sokka thinks. <em>He knows.</em> “I thought you liked Lee. You seemed awfully close earlier.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I changed my mind,” Sokka tells him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Lover’s spat?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Heat rushes to Sokka’s face. “We aren’t lovers!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Uh huh. Sure.” Dad laughs, and Sokka sinks into the oversized hood of his borrowed anorak, wishing he could disappear. Spirits, why did Dad think such a ridiculous thing?</p>
</div><div>
  <p><em>You held his hand, dipshit</em>, he realizes. <em>You cradled him while he slept!</em> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Is this what a crush feels like? Does he have a crush on the prince of the Fire Nation? </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“What are you writing?” Sokka asks, desperately trying to change the subject. He can’t deal with this right now.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I’m writing a letter to your grandmother. I bet she’s been worried half to death.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Oh no.” Sokka pales. “Katara is gonna kill me. She probably thinks I drowned or something.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You owe your sister quite the apology. The poor girl has an entire village to protect by herself now,” Dad says. Guilt grips Sokka’s heart and refuses to let go. “Why did you come, Sokka?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka fiddles with his sleeve. He feels childish. “I wanted to prove myself to you,” he admits. “I wanted to show you that I wouldn’t be dead weight, that you didn’t have to leave me behind.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Son, I wasn’t leaving you behind because I thought you couldn’t handle fighting with us. I was entrusting you and your sister to care for the others,” Dad says, somber. “You will never have to prove yourself to me. Understand?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Instead of a response, Sokka bursts into tears. Dad joins him on the floor and wraps his arms around Sokka’s shoulders. He doesn’t even bat an eye when Sokka gets snot on his shirt. Eventually the sobs settle, and the guilt in Sokka’s heart is masked by a tiny sliver of hope. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Now,” Dad says, helping Sokka to his feet, “Let’s figure out where to add you on the chore schedule.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka’s thoughts are loud when he returns to the gentle quiet of the infirmary. Lee— no, <em>Zuko</em>— is sleeping soundly. His bandages have been changed, and his hands are now tied to the edges of the cot with thick rope, likely to keep himself from clawing at his wound. Even though rope would do very little against a firebender, Sokka is comforted by the restraints.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He removes the scroll from his shirt and holds it over the candle flame. The parchment blackens and curls until nothing remains but ash. Despite his mind’s protests, his heart still cares for the jerk. He needs to talk to Zuko before anyone else finds out about his true heritage. He needs to figure out what his story is before he turns him over to Dad.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko gasps awake nearly an hour later. He sits up with a start, but the restraints catch him and force him back down. Sokka watches intently as the firebender tugs on the ropes. Will he burn his way out? Sokka reaches for his boomerang just in case.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You haven’t been honest with me,” Sokka says, “Prince Zuko.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Gold eyes meet blue in the dim light of the infirmary. Zuko grows so tense that Sokka is afraid he might snap. “I don’t know what you're talking about—“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Save it.” Sokka leans over the bed, forcing Zuko to look him in the eye. “I found the Firelord’s decree and the letter from your sister. She sounds like a lovely girl, by the way. Real sweet.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko stares up at him like a baby rabaroo caught in a snare. He opens his mouth to speak but seems to think better of it, pressing his lips into a pale, thin line.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“You know, I actually thought we could be friends,” Sokka continues. “But your people burned down my home. Your people killed my mother. I’ll never be able to forgive any of you ashmakers for what you put my people through.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko looks away, and the tension between them fades with the loss of contact.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Does the Chief know?” Zuko asks, wary.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“No,” Sokka admits. “I haven’t told him.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Why not? What’s going to happen to me?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Dad will hold you hostage and use you against your father. At least, that’s what I would do in his situation.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko clams up, and nothing Sokka says convinces him to speak again. This is going to become a pattern, isn’t it? Sokka collapses onto the neighboring cot with a dramatic sigh.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“We could have made this whole experience a lot worse for you, buddy,” Sokka says. “We still can, if you don’t lose the ‘tude.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko turns away from him. He shivers from the fever-induced cold, but Sokka remains in his own cot. He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for Zuko’s breathing to smooth out before he finally lets sleep take him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka wakes to a cool breeze on his face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The candle has since burned down and fizzled out, so that the only light in the room comes from the moonlight that streams through the open porthole. Sokka sits up and rubs at his groggy eyes before taking in his surroundings.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko’s bed is empty. The charred remains of his rope bindings lay discarded on the mattress. The porthole, which Sokka is sure was closed when he went to sleep, swings idly in the wind. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Shit.” Sokka scrambles out of bed and climbs through the porthole, although it’s a tight fit.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It doesn’t take long for him to find Zuko in one of the lifeboats, trying and failing to lower the boat into the water.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko’s back is to him. His body shakes like the effort of standing is too much for him. Sokka grabs him by the back of the shirt and slam him onto the deck. He straddles the firebender, using his hands and knees to pin Zuko to the deck.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Give me one reason not to call for the Chief,” Sokka warns. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko’s eyes are blown wide. He twists and writhes beneath Sokka, but the Water Tribe boy won’t let him budge. The prince is weak from his sickness, and restraining him is almost laughably easy.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“What’s the matter with you?” Sokka whispers harshly, trying not to alert the rest of the crew. “Pull yourself together. We aren’t going to hurt you! Unlike you ashmakers, we’re not savages!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. Was he always that pale? Sokka can’t remember.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“He’ll kill me,” Zuko says.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka glares. “My father would never—“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Not your father,” the fire prince spits. “<em>Mine</em>.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“The Firelord? But why would he—?” Sokka eyes the mess of bandages that cover Zuko’s face, and his heart grows cold. There’s only one man that could get away with burning a prince like that. “He did that to you, didn’t he?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Please, don’t contact my father,” Zuko pleads. There’s a manic edge to the prince’s tone. Sokka suspects that he wouldn’t be so honest if not for the fever. “I already disgraced him once. I doubt he’ll be so merciful the second time.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Merciful?” Sokka gestures to the bandaged half of Zuko’s face. “You call that mercy? That’s evil!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko shrugs. “It’s more than I deserve.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka releases Zuko and stands. He paces the deck, muttering every swear he knows. The worst part is how earnest Zuko is about it, how casually he admits that he thinks his father was right to <em>burn his face off.</em></p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Stay,” Sokka blurts out. “I won’t tell anyone who you really are. Dad already wants to adopt you into the crew, anyway. You don’t have to go back to him.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko sits up, watching him warily. “I have to capture the Avatar—“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“The Avatar died one hundred years ago!” Sokka is getting dangerously loud now. If he isn’t careful, the night watch will hear him. “Face it, man. Your daddy doesn’t want you back. He sent you out here to die—“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko bares his teeth at him. “You know nothing about me or my father!“ </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I know that good men don’t burn their children,” Sokka counters. “What happens next time you can’t meet his impossible expectations? Are you just gonna lay down and take it?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“If I deserved it, then yeah!”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Then why are you running away?” Sokka presses. “Would you really rather die in a tiny boat out at sea than go back to him?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko closes his mouth with a snap, and Sokka knows he’s struck a nerve. The prince stares at the lifeboat with an odd expression. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Once a coward, always a coward,” he murmurs, so quietly that Sokka assumes he wasn’t meant to hear.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Stay,” Sokka repeats. “Please. Let me show you what family is really like.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko scoffs, but his heart isn’t in it. “As if I could learn anything from the Water Tribe.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“<em>Zuko</em>.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Call me Lee.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Sokka perks up. “You’re staying?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Only until I’m healed,” Zuko says. “Then I’m leaving to find the Avatar. Deal?”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Deal. That gives me a few weeks to show you that you don’t need to please that Firelord bastard. I can work with that.” Sokka extends his hand. “We’ll make a warrior out of you yet.“</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“I doubt that.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Zuko scowls but accepts the offered hand. Sokka hauls the smaller boy to his feet and claps him enthusiastically on the shoulder, causing Zuko to stagger.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>“Welcome to the crew, Lee,” Sokka says. “Now let’s get you back to the infirmary before Kustaa kills us both.”</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title is from “Like the Dawn” by The Oh Hellos. A beautiful song I recommend everyone listen to.<br/>And of course, Kustaa is MuffinLance’s OC from the fic Salvage. I would only embarrass myself if I tried to come up with OC names lol</p>
<p>The first two chapters are Sokka’s POV, the last two will be Zuko’s. Please let me know what you think in the comments! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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